Spring nights
by cattaclysm
Summary: Your name is Dave Strider and you should be asleep. But you've got a boner and your bro is so hot and the night seems like a good idea. -Stridercest, pure, unfiltered filth-


Your name is Dave Strider and you should be asleep. You're well aware of this but _no_, you had to write, you had to read, you had to watch and draw and you_ had to stay awake_. It's like 2AM and you're still awake. Not writing, not reading, not watching or drawing, but you're awake. You're thinking about some super duper important shit. Well you are in fact caught in a conundrum. A different kind of fixation towards your brother. You don't even want to lie to yourself, say it was friendly admiration, you crave your bro's giant meat sword and there's no denying it. Well you could easily deny it to him anyway. He doesn't have to know. It's easier that way. It's easier denying it because it's fucked up and... well you're fine with being kind of fucked up if you can still scope his torso when he decides to walk around shirtless, or his crotch or ass generally, he doesn't have to know. Yes, you're fine with being kind of fucked up as long as he doesn't know. You're sure he isn't weird like you, not like a boner for your big bro is super common. It only happens once in a blue moon and the unlucky fucker stuck with that had to spend nights with his hand down his pants, cursing the nonexistent gods and cursing his bro for being so fucking hot. That is you.

And this was the moment. You slide your hand down your chest and stomach, shivering as a breeze rolls in through your open window. Your covers are off and it's spring time. Bro's fast asleep, probably, dreaming of god knows what. You're convinced that whatever it is, it's incredibly cool. Your hand slides down to your crotch, palming at your dick through your boxers and then inside them, groping it. You shudder a bit, sliding a few fingers of your other hand into your mouth and jacking off, just sort of thinking of your bro and the way he talks and moves and just _him_. You move that hand from your mouth behind you and grope your ass once before pressing against your entrance with the wet fingers and forcing them all inside. You cry out and you wish you had something to clasp over your mouth so you move the hand on your dick to push your shirt up and stuff some of the fabric into your mouth. You get back to jerking off and fucking your ass and you bite down on your shirt. _Fuck_, you want him to just burst through the door, flip you over and screw you senseless. But Bro would take his sweet fucking time, he really is an ass man and you want him to wreck yours, just... _fuck._ You're close already. Hey, you're 14, you're not exactly an expert. But then the best and worst thing in the world happens.

_You moan his name._

Enveloped in how your fingers thrust into your ass and your hand just perfectly gets you off, your stupid ass goes: "_Bro!_" and you stop. There's a newfound silence.

Not even awkward, terrifying. You know he heard you, you dropped the fabric from your shirt but quickly stuffed it back in there and the steady coziness of the house is gone, replaced with a silence so painful, it's a matter of time before he bursts through that door for real, calls you a sick fuck and sends you to a mental hospital or something. And he does. Burst through the door, rather, and he just... stands there. Like a fucking statue. He doesn't move at all and he takes you in and your hand's on your dick and your fingers are stretching your asshole and you've got a mouth full of shirt and you're drooling and you must look like an idiot and he just stands there. And then he goes:

"Need help?" the fucking bastard, he's joking, he's got to be. You're like the last thing he would fuck, he likes girls with big boobs and guys with big dicks and you're neither. You're his little brother, for one thing. But he's moving towards you and your breath hitches, "You seem to be doing a good job yourself, though," and he touches your thigh and _yes._ You like this.

He's so fucked up and depraved and he's like you and he likes you and he's touching you and you're so fucking happy. And then he licks your neck and tugs at your hair.

"Why'd you stop?" he asks, dead serious, "Give your big bro something to look at," and oh god he's such an asshole and he's so hot and _you must be dreaming_ but you're not and he's touching your hand and thrusting your fingers in deeper and you fucking squeak. The shirt falls from your mouth again, and he wipes the little bit of drool on the side of your mouth. You're red everywhere by now and you stutter something and you look like a retard but he fucking kisses you.

His lips are wet, or maybe that was you, and he tastes... well, like nothing, just... skin. Bro's skin. He moves a hand behind you and removes your fingers from your ass and replaces them with his own except his are thicker and they fill you so perfectly and it hurts so good and you look at him, not quite sure what to do next. He looks to be pondering something, too, probably how this is pretty weird. You expect him to leave you like that but he kisses you again and scoots over to you and he's so much larger than you and he's older than you and he's fingerfucking you and you're a mess.

"Blow me," he says and he's serious and he undoes his pants and pulls his dick out and _oh_ it's... it's pretty huge and it's hard and your mouth just kinda hangs open so he grabs you by the hair and shoves your mouth down on it and you fucking choke like a little kid so he lets you up so you can cough a bit but you are hellbent on sucking your brother off so you try again. Nice and slow. You take in as much of him as you can on your own and he pushes you a bit lower and you gag and swallow around him and he moves his fingers and you're jacking off and you feel him poking around and you wanna tell him where to touch but your mouth is so full of him so you lick at the underside and suck gently and you let him fuck your throat and your ass and your everything and soon enough you're coming and you get jizz all over the bedsheets and he pulls you off of himself and goes:

"Wanna lick that up?" and oh god he's so filthy and you _need _him to make you do it so you whine and shake your head and he shoves your face in the mattress, right in your mess and gets behind you and you think he's gonna fuck you cause he pulls his fingers out but instead, he sits, weighs the bed level down a bit and gropes your ass and you love the feeling of his hands digging into the soft flesh and then he slaps it and you moan like a fucking whore because _fuck_ you need him to use you. You lap at the cum in front of you and he slaps your ass again, gropes it some more before spreading your cheeks apart and teases your entrance with one finger, just sort of rubs it and then he moves so he's kneeling and he slowly eases himself inside and you shut your eyes and grab the sheets and it hurts but you want this so bad and he's moving already and he doesn't waste any time in making you a moaning mess and you _beg_ for him to keep going.

He tells you how tight you feel and he moves a hand to stick a few fingers in your mouth and you lick at them but end up drooling on them a bit when he delivers a hard thrust directly at your prostate and he grabs your ass with his other hand and slaps it every once in a while and you're so fucking close and he's so fucking hot and the room is so stuffy and it reeks of sex and you feel like such a whore and you're coming all over the bed sheets again and he keeps fucking you cause he's not done yet. You're convinced your bro is the coolest. But he pulls out and comes on your back soon after and you're trying to catch your breath and so is he and your ass is still in the air while he's laid back on your bed, he looks at you.

"You know," he begins, "You could've just told me," and you sit up again and turn to face him but you can't look him in the eyes so you look at his chest instead. His chest won't judge you.

"And what if you had went 'Oh sorry', kid, I'm not into fucking 14 year old boys who happen to be my brothers'?" the question hangs in the air as a confession of insecurity and... well a lot more than that. Bro isn't just hot and you aren't just something Bro can use to get his rocks off, but neither say anything. He gives you a quick kiss, mumbles a goodnight and goes to his room. You fall back and start thinking again. More important shit. You have no idea what just happened and you move your legs to avoid the two wet spots on the bed. Is he just humoring you? Better yet, does he like you, or are you just someone he can fuck whenever he pleases? You hope he likes you cause you like him a lot. He isn't just hot. And you aren't just a hormonal teen. And the breeze rolls again and it's like 3AM. Your name is Dave Strider and you should be asleep.


End file.
